


Harvest

by VividSunsets



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, they're alive in the same era so of course I made them interact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 19:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18169103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VividSunsets/pseuds/VividSunsets
Summary: After a 501st victory over the Separatists on a farming planet, the Agricorps move in to heal the battle damage. During the transition, Hardcase meets a mysterious Jedi practicing his technique in a field.





	Harvest

The sun shone, casting a pleasant warmth that the Five Hundred and First happily basked in. Jesse and Kix tried to suntan best they could before they shipped out for the next mission, and others talked with the volunteers that would help the place heal. 

Hardcase wanted to go for a walk, so he entrusted his helmet to Jesse and Kix, told them to comm him when the transport got close, and set down a path of tall plants. Some stood proud and golden, ready for harvest, and others sported scorch marks from the battle. He meandered through them, watching them sway in the breeze, when he heard labored breathing and swishing nearby. He ran forward, heart pounding, hoping that the group had not forgotten a fallen clone, and skidded to a stop.

The source of the noise was thankfully a teenage boy wearing Jedi robes and twirling a shovel in a manner which would befit a staff. As Hardcase ran, the shovel’s uneven weight threw the kid off-kilter, but he straightened and whipped around, returning the shovel to a position befitting a farming tool upon noticing Hardcase. He grinned at the kid and shrugged.  
“You can go back to it, I’m not laughing at you.”

The kid declined his offer, but his posture relaxed. He stuck the shovel in the ground and leaned on it, studying Hardcase’s face.

“Nice tattoos.”

Hardcase thanked him, used to the compliment but appreciating it all the same. He stepped forward, ready to continue with his walk and let the kid get back to his shovel twirling when he asked another question.

“How badly did they hurt?”

He didn’t hear that one often, but he answered happily:

“The one near my eye, right here, hurt like hell. I’m amazed the line came out as straight as it did, but I got a good artist helping me. Why are you curious?”

“It’s a Terellian tradition to get tattoos and a mask as a coming-of-age ceremony. I’m a bit older than some, because…” the kid quieted, glancing away. “I’m getting mine soon, and the tattoos will cover all of me,” the kid said, gesturing down his eyes, arms, torso, and legs. “It’s a lot.”

“Oh, I can tell you about body tattoos too,” Hardcase said. “I’m not going to strip, but mine cover just about all of me under here. There’s certain parts that are more painful,” he said, feeling around his ribs, “and you’re built like a twig, so I’m not gonna lie, it’ll probably hurt you more than it hurt me, but you’re a Jedi, and you go through a lot. You should be fine.”

The kid snorted.

“Not as much as most Jedi, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Hardcase ignored the second weird shift in conversation and steered it somewhere else.  
“I don’t see many Jedi farming, your Master having you do something different?” Hardcase asked, racking his brain for what he knew about Jedi training.

“I’m an Initiate, I don’t have a Master,” the kid said, the end of his sentence clipped.

Ah. He didn’t know much about the Jedi, but he knew they usually got a Master around their early teens. This kid looked a little older than she did, and while he’d never heard of the Initiate rank before, he guessed it was low, though Hardcase had assumed that Jedi advanced mostly based on age.

“Hey, I’m sure you’re alright,” Hardcase said, smiling. “At least, what you’re doing with the shovel looks good.”

The kid laughed. “Thanks. It’s no staff, but it works for practice, especially when I’m not supposed to be practicing.”

The nervous and self-deprecating energy of the kid hit him again, and he reminded Hardcase of Tup, when he’d first joined the Five Hundred and First: young, insecure, and ambitious, and he figured he’d tell him the same story that had calmed Tup, even if it was a clone story.

“Have you ever heard of Fives and Echo?”

The kid shook his head.

“Alright then, let’s start from the beginning.”

Hardcase looked skyward, racking his memories for the times he’d heard the tale.

“Fives and Echo were part of a five-man team on Kamino called ‘Domino Squad,’ who had a difficult time working together. There were Fives and Echo, who were good, but didn’t work well with the others; Hevy, also good, but didn’t listen to anyone; Cutup, who was nice, but joked too much to be good in the sims; and Droidbait. I can only guess how he earned that name.”

The kid winced.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine it was good,” Hardcase said, and continued to tell the story of Domino, how their loss in the sims only looked worse next to Bravo’s record-breaking success, and while the kid’s face fell, his body language was attentive.

“...and then, Fives and Echo blamed the rest of their team for it--they went to go to talk to General Shaak Ti, you know her?”

The barest hint of a smile on the kid’s face indicated that he did. Hardcase grinned in turn.

“She helped my class with our forms once, and they weren’t as boring as normal.”

“They asked her if they could transfer to another squad, and you know Jedi,” Hardcase paused, remembering his company, “well, you are a Jedi, you know, and she told them that they needed to work with their squad. The group matters more than the individual, right? Both the clones and Jedi are supposed to ascribe to that.”

The kid laughed, and Hardcase couldn’t tell if it was sincere or cold.

“That definitely sounds like the Jedi.”

“Hey, it worked. I dunno if some Force magic happened, but when they came together the next day, they ran the course like a new group, even after Fives swears up and down that a trainer sabotaged it.”

“So they learned the value of teamwork and went on to join the Five Hundred and First,” the kid said, his tone indignant. Then his face fell. “Something happened to the other three.”

Hardcase winced. 

He continued the story with their trip to Rishi base and spent a while describing the desolate rock, so he could get the feel of it, mentioning that Echo was the only one who was interested in the job.

“Why?” 

“I heard that he’s kind of a nerd,” Hardcase said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

The kid snickered and smiled genuinely. Hardcase had him on his side. 

“I think I relate more to the rest of Domino,” the kid said, gesturing to the fields around him.

In turn, Hardcase understood the kid’s predicament better. Some Jedi were fighters, even if their code stated otherwise. Commander Tano and General Skywalker were fighters. Many of the Jedi on the front lines as well, even if they didn’t admit it. This kid was clearly a fighter too, but unlike the others, he didn’t get an outlet.

“It doesn’t stay boring; after that, the Separatists invade Rishi. Droidbait and a few others are gunned down trying to hold them off, and Cutup gets eaten by a Rishi eel after they sneak out, a nasty way to go.”

“Hope it was quick,” the kid said, wincing.

“Word has it that Cutup screamed the whole way down, so probably not.”

The air hung silently for a few seconds too long, only interrupted by the wind’s whispers.

Hardcase opted to return to the story.

He tells the kid about how Fives, Echo, and Hevy ran into Rex and Cody, and their plan to get the base back.

“...And it goes well, until the bomb doesn’t go off, but Hevy took it upon himself to light the place up. His sacrifice alerts Kamino that they’re under attack, and the others all get out safe. For surviving that, Captain Rex accepted Fives and Echo into the Five Hundred and First.” 

“Guess that answers my question about what happened to the others.”

Hardcase gave the kid a brief summary of Fives and Echo’s adventures, how many droids they sniped at the Battle of Kamino, how Rex and Cody promoted them to ARC troopers, how the clones took the story to heart because they were regs. 

“People liked them too--they were damn good ARC Troopers and better friends, and because of that, they got assigned to help rescue General Evan Piell from the Citadel.”

The kid’s face darkened, and Hardcase knew he didn’t need to explain the connotations of the mission.

“Looks like you know what happened. The group was going to escape, but their transport got found out and surrounded by Seps. Echo saw an opening and charged out with a shield to seize it. His shield didn’t protect him. What gets me though,” Hardcase said, unable to prevent the words tumbling from his mouth, “Is that Fives had to move on, seconds after Echo died, but they gave your Jedi a funeral though despite the Separatist on their heels.”

The kid chewed on his lip and shifted his weight.

“That’s hypocritical.” 

Words Hardcase never quite expected from a Jedi, but maybe the kid had never heard Piell’s story put like that before. In any event, hearing the sentiment from a Jedi was refreshing, so he continued.

“Fives is still around. Works well as a solo ARC Trooper about as well as he did with Echo, but the reason I’m telling you this story is, Fives’ future didn’t look too glamorous either. He could’ve been stationed permanently on Kamino, he could’ve done what was required on Rishi base and probably had the life of an average soldier in an average battalion, or he could’ve died alongside his squad and the others in the Five Hundred and First, but he became an ARC Trooper instead.”

The kid’s eyes darted back and forth, and he inhaled sharply. 

“I’m not as lucky as Fives,” his voice wavered for a moment, then hardened. “I don’t have any upward mobility, and I’m past the age where I could even take a Master, which means I’m stuck as an Initiate for the rest of my life.”

Hardcase glanced down, and the pale blue of the kid’s knuckles matched the sky.

“People associate Initiates with younglings,” he continued, “To the Order, we’re not worth training to fight, so I’m stuck in fields, helping grass grow.”

“Yeah, Fives was lucky,” Hardcase conceded, “but the times he got promoted always had a cost too,” Hardcase said, his face setting into hard lines. “Point is, maybe your break will come when you’re down on your luck, when you don’t expect it, so keep a lookout, and make sure that you seize it when it happens, because that’s what Fives did.”

As Hardcase spoke, the kid’s face shifted from anger to sadness to confusion. Finally, his eyes blazed with resolve. 

“Thank you, for the advice and the story,” he said, fire dimming to ember.

And the kid did sound pensive, less petulant than he had before. At least Hardcase had gotten through to him, and considering the state of the confession, Hardcase suspected that he may have been one of the first ones that the kid opened up to. 

“Hey, no problem, and at least you’ve got your new tattoos to look forward to, so you did come of age. When are you getting them?” 

The kid’s face softened and his posture relaxed.

“Yeah, I finally came of age, helped find a lost kid after she’d been gone two weeks. I’m getting my tattoos and mask on Terrelia when we finish this assignment.”

“Ooh, fancy,” Hardcase said, with a low whistle for emphasis, “I only got mine on Coruscant.”

“Where? The planet’s big.”

“Well, since we clones barely get paid, Circle A’s in the third quadrant, level 4984--” Hardcase started, when his comm blinked.

“Hey Hardcase! Transport’s touching down, we don’t want you left behind,” Jesse laughed, tapping Hardcase’s helmet, “Though, this might be an improvement on the original--”

“Stuff it, Jesse,” Hardcase laughed, straightening up, “I’ll be there in a second.”

Hardcase turned to the kid.

“It was good seeing you, good luck with the tattoos and illicit shovel-twirling,”

The kid rolled his eyes but waved back to him, grinning.

“Good luck out there.”

Hardcase turned back to the path, and set off on a sprint, feeling the air rush past and cooling him off. Ahead of him, the grain swayed in the wind, the stalks blending together, and he could barely see the scorched stalks of war. As he drew closer, he saw the ship on the ground, crates littered about, and Jesse and Kix putting their armor back on, the sun casting long shadows as the troops readied to move out.

**Author's Note:**

> "The kid" is meant loosely--I just couldn't picture Hardcase saying "the adolescent" or "the teenager" multiple times throughout the fic.
> 
> Also, "Circle A" isn't actually the name or location of the tattoo parlor: Kolo Zo would rather not give the name of his tattoo parlor away to Jedi or anybody else that's going to expose him for giving clones both heavily discounted tattoos or a way out of the GAR if they choose, so in the event that a Jedi asks, the clones are instructed to give the name of a friend's location, who alerts Kolo that there might be an investigation happening.
> 
> When I say the clones "barely get paid," I mean the Republic pays them a minuscule amount so they can technically say they pay the clones.


End file.
